The other night I had a dream that I was having a deep conversation with Tupac Shakur. Now, mind you, I often have dreams of bigger than life figures of the world, like Bowie and Frida. When I connect with someone, anyone in the dream world, I consider it a great honor and spiritual teaching. This time was no different. In my dream, Tupac told me that there was no difference between him and me. Well I know we both love Shakespeare…
During Tupac’s short life, he did prison time during the height of his rap career not once but twice. So when he sat down to tell me we were no different, I was kind of dubious. Here is what he had to say:
“Just as I have done time, you have done time in that prison of a town that you live in, Knoxville. What are you doing in Knoxville? The only difference between your prison and mine is that they have called you N***** behind your back. In the pen, they said it to my face.”
This is true. Life in Knoxville has been one of the worst experiences of my life that I am just not ready to talk about. I have lived here for eight very long and difficult years, but I am grateful for this time of growth (and not the repressed rageaholic pretend kind of grateful, either).
If it had not been for the experience of Knoxville, I would not be embarking on such an incredible adventure right now. Now that my time is up and I am up for parole out of Knoxville, Tennessee, I couldn’t be more excited to sell all of my possessions, leave the insular thinking and exposure to the vampiric customs like feasting on the blood of the lamb. All this time I didn’t realize that I was repressing my inner goddess, the same high priestess that is meant to teach the world to push the limits of self-actualization and spiritual expression as an art form.
All around us there is an epidemic of repression- a disquieting, hurtful silence of spirit’s true desires. You may be experiencing it now, or possibly have experienced it in your past. You know how painful it feels, how you scratch the walls of your soul, crying to get out, feeling desperate to be relevant to your immediate society with no connection or efficacy. To me living in such a repressed environment makes me feel as if I am slowly going blind. My sight becomes dimmed, my visions a faraway horizon. For a seer, that is a terrifying reality. We spirits in a human costume are, by nature, dreamers and visionaries. We are as old as the birth of the cosmos. We carry the wisdom of stardust in our DNA. This is nothing new, this is fact. But still, a lot of us struggle with limited thinking and try to label such innate esoteric knowledge as woo woo. What the fuck? Are you a baby? You cannot pronounce the word “spirituality?”
Don’t you DARE call my spiritual practice “woo woo.”
There seems to be shame associated with esoterica much like the shame a parent feels when teaching their children genital anatomy – this is your pee pee; this is your wee wee. Why all the shame? Why can’t we just say we welcome the mystery of life with multi-dimensional sight?
I talk to my best friend, my husband Eric, about this all the time (you can’t spell esoteric without ERIC). As a Virgo, Eric goes to the depths of the earth to pull up spiritual nourishment from roots of truth. I, a Leo, go to the far reaches of space to pulldown the fire of starlight and wonder. At our sacred meeting place (our relationship), we complement one another so well that sometimes we cause cataclysmic shifts in our realities. We bend time to suit our needs. We jump to new realities at the speed of light and love. We brawl at the molten core of the earth.
We have recently discovered — meaning we stopped being lazy and scared and made the choice to change our lives– that the time has come for us to leave Knoxville. We spent years tying up loose ends, and now, we are ready to awaken and celebrate our wanderlust. As great explorers, we are planning to traverse the world teaching that the great wanderer within is both teacher and student; life is the relationship and matter and spirit are participants.
We have tried the just add water life of 9-5 and house with picket fence, cardigans, and fake smiles. We feel like caged animals ready to pounce.
Society isn’t our fucking god!
We have already begun the path of wandering off the societal track to the grave and have discovered the joy in soul excavation, the purpose of creation, and the creation of purpose. Right now we are in the process of selling everything we own – house, personal possessions, and the idea of the white picket fence life, so that we can earn our integrity back.
Living a good life isn’t always ethical even if you live right, whatever that means. Even if you don’t think you’re cheating someone else, if you aren’t being authentic you are cheating yourself out of your gifts to share with others. Life is cyclical. When you screw yourself, you screw everybody. This was a hard lesson for us to learn. It was painful and agitating to our bodies.
We have always had wanderlust at the root of our sacred spontaneity. To deny ourselves access to the doorway to our greatest gifts is as murder. To live in a town that has had a fundamental problem with our interracial, intergenerational, and interdimensional lifestyle is fucking suicide. We have learned incredible lessons that we are taking to the road to teach you now.
We are going to share our hearts with communities and teach leaders how to lead more efficiently. We are going to teach my theory of spirit ecology and strengthen the jewel of source that lives within you. We are going to share deep teachings through retreats, artistic performances, and spiritual rituals. We are going to juxtapose the ancient with the modern. We want to come see you in the city you live in and help you heal your past. Eric and I are the masters of empowerment, purpose, and relationships because we choose to be master students of life.
So if you hear of a wildly exotic high priestess passing through your city, accompanied by a beautiful silver haired king, listen closely. We are beckoning you to weave the mystery of life with us.